


Ellie's Favorite Knob

by FBIEpidemic



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy being a dad, Ellie being a good friend, Hurt Alec Hardy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBIEpidemic/pseuds/FBIEpidemic





	Ellie's Favorite Knob

Her child is nestled in the enemies lap. His head of curls resting over her partner's chest, hearing his faulty heart beat in his chest and gently rubbing his thumb over the material of Hardy’s shirt. He shifts and Hardy wakes from his sleep just enough to snort as his breathing shifts and wrap his arm around Fred’s back. Fred opens his eyes, looking up at Hardy now sleeping peacefully again, and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

“Knob,” Ellie whispers watching the adorable sight before her. It’s so hard to stay mad at Hardy even when he’s being a complete shit head. He’s her best friend and she’s his only friend. Even when she hates him, she wants to help him. He’s not a bad man… he’s just a little broken.

Hardy’s breathing becomes uneasy, he lets out a groan. To which Fred whimpers and Hardy startles awake. He flinches a little but Fred stays securely held on his chest,” shh, now.” Hardy moves his arm and gives Fred an affectionate pat on the bum,” don’t be like that. Back to sleep.”

Fred makes an unhappy noise, Hardy grunts back, and scowls at the boy in his arms. 

Hardy was a touchy subject in their home. SImply his name would make Fred excited. It would have the small boy wiggling about or clapping his hands and on the rare occasions that he tries to speech small “ D!’s” coming from his mouth in agreeance. 

Tom doesn’t hate him. The pair get along but she’s sure that’s for her benefit because they have nothing in common. Tom wants to like Hardy, wants to get excited to see the man, but Hardy is an old soul. He doesn't want to go out back and toss a ball about. Although he did once and they ended cracking him in the nose with it, he walked around with a nasally voice for a week because of it. 

Daisy though, she gets along grand with Tom. The two of them can go on for hours, much to Hardy’s annoyance. 

She doesn’t worry too much. They’re not lovers and she’s not trying to be. 

“Here,” she walks into the living room, to where they two are laying on the couch. “Let me take him, Alec.” 

Over time she had slipped his first name into use and each time she uses it he reacts less and less. Now, half asleep and still exhausted from this weeks crime, he just scowls at her. “We’re fine,” his Scottish draw is thicker than usual, demonstrating just how tired he must be. 

She puts her hands up, shaking her head at Fred who makes a face at her too,” okay. No need to be fuckwits about it.”

Her relationship with Hardy is one of mere-exposure: she’s around him enough that she’s accidentally become fond of him. On most days, she would gladly take it back but on days like this, when he’s softly rubbing her son’s back, and sleepily glaring at her to leave him alone… She might just love him.

Not enough to get in his pants, he’s too much of a shithead for that. 

He’d been sick all day so she is more than ready to forgive his snippiness. She’d known the moment he walked in that morning. Instead of greeting her with a kiss to the cheek, a coffee, or toast he grunted past her and choked down the cup of tea she’d had sitting out for him. He’d sat at his desk pretty green around the mouth after that. 

She could go for a cup of his tea right about now. 

“Is he still sick?” Tom is suddenly behind her, where she’d slipped back to the doorway of the living room. He leans against the wall and watches his little brother drool on Hardy’s chest. 

She’s not entirely sure. She hadn’t bothered him with the thermometer in over an hour. Not since Fred woke up from his nap puking. 

Hardy often surprises her with his ability to work with small children. Although reluctant to hold Fred while she cleaned his crib, she came back to Hardy gently rocking him to sleep with small shifts of his hips. 

After she’d fixed the bed up, feeling better about leaving Fred with Hardy, she’d found them napping on the couch. 

She shrugs her shoulders,” I don’t know, love.” She puts an arm around his shoulders,” I think Hardy is probably going to sleep here tonight if you’re okay with that.” She bumps her hip against his and he just looks onward into the living room.

Tom nods his head,” I like him, mum.” He leans his head into her shoulder,” he can be a…”

“A knob?” Ellie offers and smiles when Tom chuckles and shakes his head.

“That’s not what I meant.”

They fall silent for a moment before Tom softly says,” it’s like… like having a family again. Just a different kind.”

Elle nods.

It feels wrong when they’re not all together. It’s empty in the house when he's not there sleeping through movie night, Daisy isn’t stifling her giggles alongside Tom, and Fred’s not nestled between her and Hardy. No one wants to get up and make breakfast if Hardy isn’t here to do it for them, no doubt cursing in a sleepy Scottish accent at the skillet that keeps sending hot oil at his exposed arms. 

That is until Fred comes crashing into his legs and he cleans his language up. 

“Get your brother for me,” Ellie motions towards the couch and walks in. She lifts Fred off of Hardy’s chest and wakes them both up.

“Wa’ are you doing tha’ for?” Hardy groans and Fred whimpers and pushes himself from Tom’s chest, trying to push his way back to Hardy. 

Ellie puts one of his arms over her shoulders,” you’re sick. You need to sleep on a bed, not a couch.”

He grunts and tries to push her away but just ends up making himself nauseous. 

“You deserve that you, knob.” She sees the flash of fight leave his eyes as he blows his cheeks out to fight his stomach back down. 

She takes him back to her room, easing him into the sheets, and taking his shoes off. "Take the damn suit jacket off," she has to fight his limbs out of the jacket but when she's done he's glaring half-heartedly up at her.

"Sleep," she brushes his hair from his face, rolling her eyes at the entire situation. 

He is a knob, the worst, but he's her favorite knob.

"Miller?"

She pauses at the door.

"Thanks."

When she shuts the door she has to remind herself just how annoying he is. Stupid, stupid man.


End file.
